It Takes a Professional
by Inquisitor Azreal
Summary: Lost. Cold. Wounded. Jaune Arc would never make it as a Hunter. Never live up to his families legacy. But as a Witcher? Geralt can see a sort of potential. After all Remnant will always need professionals. (Slowburn Pairing, Undecided)
1. Chapter 1

**I'm shocked people! How could we possibly let this go untapped?! The fit could be seamless, a world full of monsters needs professionals and no one is more skilled then the White Wolf. Buuuuuut we won't be focused on him. No, our subject is much much younger. Nearly the same age as one young Cirila.**

 **That being said the entire crew of both world will appear in some fashion or another.**

 **Enough about that though! Enjoy the story!.**

* * *

 ** _Failure._**

The word reverberated through his mind. An unwanted companion clamouring for attention.

 ** _Weak._**

 ** _Slow._**

 ** _Disappointment._**

That was the worst. The moment it hissed from between his fathers lips he knew that he failed as an Arc. The look of surprise on his face, as if he never meant to voice the thought, only cemented it as truth. Before he had the chance to make an apology or twist it into a favourable light his son had grabbed their ancestral blade and run off into the forest.

That's how an eight year old Jaune Arc found himself wandering through the woods with only a sword nearly as tall as him and his own vicious mind for company.

Five older sisters.

All of them as graceful as they are deadly.

Of course the family would have to have a black sheep eventually.

 ** _You._**

He shook his head violently as if trying to whip water from his hair.

 _No!_

 _I'll show them disappointment. I'll- I'll kill a beowolf! Show them I'm a true Arc!_

 _ **Or you will die. And they won't weep over you, after all it would be no real loss.**_

His face lost all expression. Set in stoney determination he pressed on goal set in both his mind and his heart.

 **=][=**

He was hungry.

He was cold.

He was wet.

It had been three days since he had abandoned home. The first was filled with equal parts hope and despair yet for all his walking he heard not a single growl nor saw a hint of black and white.

The second had been much the same with yet more self loathing as he tried and failed to catch any sort of food. Squirrels leapt at the last second, berries bitter enough to make him gag and water. Well he had plenty of water the third day.

It was a down pour, it started just before noon and even now as the sun started to kiss the horizon it continued to fall. So here he was huddled in a hollowed out tree with a sword between his knees praying for some for of sign as tears fell upon his cheeks.

 _I should have never run away._

 _I could live as a disappointment._

 _Ride the coat tails of his families legacy._

 _I just want to go home._

And that's when something changed. His surrounding once full of songs sung by the birds in the trees had fallen silent. Now focused on listening he could hear the stamping of hooves getting quieter and quieter as deer fled the area. All to soon the only audible sound was the falling rain, the groaning of the trees and his own quickening breathing.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

In.

 **SQRUAAAAAAAAAAA!**

His hands jumped to his ears on their own accord trying to shut out the screech so full of malice and hunger. But at the same time his sword fell clattering noisily against the ground.

Not two heart beats later the ground shook as something very large landed heavily in the woods. Smart enough to know he was dead no matter what, he sent another quick plea to the great Oum and crawled out of the tree sword dragging on the ground. He turned to face whatever had arrived and his heart nearly froze.

A basilisk.

A monstrous amalgamation of two wolf legs, a lizards body, crows wings and a snakes head full of rows upon rows of fangs. Each dripping a poison that is neither fast or painless. It was as long as a truck about as tall too, with a wingspan to rival a city bus.

He was dead.

Deader then the Ursa fur rug that decorated his families living room floor.

His only hope here was to take advantage of the two large gashes on the left side of it's torso and the crossbow bolt firmly wedged in the right wing of the creature.

It was a very small hope.

He charged roaring with all his eight year old might.

 **=][=**

"Come on Roach!"

Crows scattered as iron shod hooves slammed again and again into the muddy road.

"We can't lose it Geralt!" A second older voice yelled over the howling rain as a second horse joined the first.

Sat atop Roach, Geralt, a man with hair as white as snow shook his head. "Tracking Bolt. Won't lose the scent not even in this weather Vesimir."

Vesemir was both Geralt's companion and teacher. Centuries old yet still fit and ready to cut down the monsters that plagued the land, the only sign of his age being the thick grey mane atop his head and eyes wary and knowledgeable.

"Smart."

And so they rode on determined to find and end that insufferable basilisk. Cracked his crossbow, it'd die for that alone.

The horses were shaking from exhaustion by they time the spotted the beast swooping into a clearing letting loose a hunting cry as it fell. "Ha! We got it now!"

They were still a decent ride away two full minutes at full gallop but the basilisk stayed grounded, most likely gnawing at a fresh deer carcass trying to regenerate what it could before the next encounter. They veered of the path when it could take them no closer and as the trees grew more and more dense Geralt was forced to duck beneath a low lying branch.

He turned to Vesemir only to see him too struggling to weave the tiring horse through the few clear paths. "We're close enough, we can move faster on foot." He called to his fellow witcher.

The old man looked over before giving a sharp nod. Geralt pulled his reins back slowing the horse before swinging his left leg forward and over Roach's neck letting him slide smoothly from the saddle. Sinking into the wet ground slightly Geralt reached over his shoulder and grasped one of the two swords sheathed there. It gleamed in the dying daylight as the silver blade was slowly drawn, it was a simple weapon by modern standards yet just as expensive as top of the line mecha-shift. Made of pure silver it was a relic of a bygone era, when humanity fought for it's very survival against the Grimm, back before the discovery of dust and the complex refining techniques needed to utilize the elements. Of course now that such a powerful tool was at his disposal a series of dust runestones ran up the first quarter of Geralt's sword.

Vesemir had already started to jog toward the strong vinegary scent of the tracking bolt, his own silver blade bare. By the time he caught up the duo were just a few dozen meters away from the clearing. Geralt expected to hear the sounds of crunching flesh and he wasn't disappointed what was unexpected was the child like scream of pain that followed.

"Shit! It's got someone, we have to do this quick. No bombs." Vesemir snapped quickening his pace.

No bombs? It limited the options and definitely made the fight harder but nothing that they couldn't handle. Transitioning to a sprint Geralt over took Vesemir and broke through the clearing instantly focusing on the beast. It had a new wound running from the top of it's now ruined right eye all the way to it's snout, it was writhing back and forth hissing and snapping at imaginary foes. Geralt closed the distance in seconds and leapt, sword drawn back in one hand, a quick **quen** sign being formed in the other. At the apex of his jump he thrust his long sword forward in a quick stab, it was ill aimed and while it would hurt, nothing vital would be done. That is until the runes on his blade glowed bright and nudged his sword ever so slightly so that it bit deep into the joint just above the right wing, bringing his other hand up he retched his sword free causing the wing of the beast to hang lifelessly by a few unsevered tendons.

The basilisk roared in agony and rage. It was a **terror of the sky**! It had feasted on the land dwellers for **decades**! It ruled this land and now it would never fly again! The meal would **PAY**!

Faster then a train the reinforced tail of the draconid whipped at Geralt at speed matching an oncoming train, only to bounce harmlessly against a now broken magical shield. Rolling back Geralt watched as Vesemir struck next sword slashing into the now exposed tail. Breaking from his crouch he ran forward jumping onto the back of the monster before driving his sword downwards at the base of the beasts neck.

Now paralyzed from the neck down and choking on it's own blood the basilisk desperately tried snap at anything near by. It whimpered pitifully as Vesimir came close a delivered a brutal two handed chop to it's neck cutting to the bone.

"It's done." He breathed as he stepped back to let the beast bleed out, it's mouth opening and closing repeatedly in shock.

Geralt looked around quickly before spotting what he heard earlier. "There. A boy. Still alive."

"What's this now?" Vesemir said skirting around the now dead monster to walk towards the fallen child. He was simply dressed in a fine tunic and breaches over which sat a torn open training cuirass, venom leaked from the wound creating transparent bubbles in his pooling blood. "Not for long, poor boy got bit. We should grant him peace, better then a week of torment or bleeding out in the cold."

"No I have another idea..." Geralt tapered off as he eyed the scraggly blonde.

"Hmm? Think he has the potential?" The elder asked placed his hands on his hips.

Geralt didn't respond right away instead his amber orbs flickered to the broken sword next to the boy. Steel yet it had cut through the basilisks hide when swung by a child. He picked up the blade and wiped away the basilisk's blood. "Look at this, snapped at the tang but the blades a masterpiece, never seen this many rune spaces on a steel sword before."

Vesemir knelt beside him and took the offered blade. "Well I'll be, ancient as far as swords go. Forged of what looks like meteorite, very rare even these days."

"Belongs to the kid. Should stay with him when he gets to Kher Moran."

"Not much good a broken blade will do even if he survives the trials."

"He's dead either way, least this way he can fight for his life and just have Yen transmute it longer and thinner so it's a proper longsword." Geralt said rising from his crouch.

"Fine, fine." Vesemir relented picking the boy up, who was mercifully unconscious, before gently laying him on his saddle then mounting himself. "Atleast Ciri will stop whining about training with a dummy. Go collect the bounty for the Basilisk city boy, I'll see you back at kaer Morhen. HIA!"

The White Wolf of Rivia turned up his lip while drawing a butchers dagger. He always got the dirty jobs.

* * *

 **Now on to the nitty gritty. I write what I'm interested in and with the amount of game play I have to go through still I will be writing this for a long while yet. I have the next chapter ready to be uploaded next thursday and the third is nearly half done. That being said as much as I want to stick to a once per week chapter schedule, I can't make any promises, work is hectic and I'll be starting school in three weeks. So if you don't see me and this starts to stagnate please feel free to take up the torch, i have no issue with it.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey look at that I remember to post this thing. A bit of good news bad news, the good news is you guys are guaranteed to get a chapter next week , the bad news is that it was the chapter that you were meant to get today. As i was proofreading it I noticed a segment that while on first glance seemed perfectly fine would be come a gaping plot hole later down the road, so I took the first segment and gave you what I could. Next week's chapter though is looking to be around 12-13k words.**

 **Any way have fun with this one guys.**

* * *

He felt his body burning.

Fire coursed through every artery.

Any attempt to move only fanned the flames higher.

Pain.

It was a sensation Jaune had become very familiar with over the past- hours? Days? Weeks?

He had had one faint moment of respite, when the flames died down and he started to grow weary. But that did not last, he was vaguely aware of some vile liquid passing his lips then near instantly the flames redoubled their blaze. Yet now they were not content with just his veins, they spread hungry for kindling, taking root in his bones, his lungs, every inch of muscle and skin. It was unbearable. Jaune wanted nothing more then to just end his life, if moving didn't start new waves of agony he would bite through his own tongue, bleed out in minutes.

 **Disappointment.**

The word pierced the veil of pain and everything started to fade away. He clamped down on the feeling, willing it to go away. He would take the pain just not silence!

 _No!_

 _I- I will live!_

 _I have t-to survive._

 _I can't di-_

Blessed blackness.

 **=][=**

"He seems to be taking to the trial quite well I must say." A female voice, one filled with grace and elegance interrupted the witcher's silent vigil over the newest aspirant.

Pushing himself off the cold stone walls of the mutagen lab Geralt brought his hand up and rubbed away the drowsiness from his eyes. "Mhm. He started to succumb to the venom earlier but he's a stubborn one."

He glanced over at the new arrival, Yennefer. She was a sight to behold, holding herself nobly even now in the dead of night, only wear a night shift. She strutted over to where the boy lay stopping by his head, she reach down and seemed to examine his hair, a lock of which had transitioned from a dirty blonde to pale white.

"Hmmm stupid enough to charge a basilisk, stubborn enough not to die and now hair turning white?" She looks up from the boy, a teasing smile danced across her face. "Looks like we have a Geralt Jr in the works."

Geralt rolled his eyes even as a grin of his own threatened to break past his stony facade. "A good enough name until we actually learn his."

Yen resumed we walk around the table toward several growing mutagens, each a lumpy mass of flesh no bigger than a thumbnail. They would be inserted into the arms, legs and torso on the last day of the trial.

"Junior it is." She paused looking up from her work. "Ciri is starting to get curious."

"Oh?"

"Yes, she knows you're in the castle but no one is telling her what you are doing. I caught her prowling the dungeons trying to find you."

Geralt only raised his brow, "Isn't Vesemir keeping her busy?"

"No doubt he fell asleep during lessons again."

A small chuckle escaped the witcher "Well she should have someone her age to keep up with her soon."

"Won't hear her complain about that practice dummy anymore." She added. "Why don't you come up, see Ciri, get some rest?"

Geralt shook his head. "Can't. Always has to be a witcher on vigil."

"I'll go get one of the others to come down, you've been up for three days."

"Okay, I'll be up soon." Geralt agreed watching the sorceress walk out the door and up the stairs before once more throwing his gaze upon the still form of Geralt Junior.

 **=][=**

Waking up was horrible.

His senses returned to him at what seemed like a snails pace.

Every part of him held a deep seated soreness, worse than any day of training with his father.

But at the same time he welcomed it. The soreness was a far cry from the constant agony he had been in for the past... Who knows how long. Jaune tried to bring his hand up to relieve the pounding in his head- but he couldn't...

That wasn't a reassuring feeling.

 _Okay. Focus Jaune. This is important. Aaaand still nothing. Okay baby steps. The fingers._

Slowly. So very slowly, Jaune could feel his fingers twitch and brush against... Was that wood? Another twitch. Yup wood. Twitch. Twitch. Fidget. Twitch. Inch by monumental inch he closed his hand into a fist and it was like a flood gate opened as awareness flooded through him.

Opening his eyes he saw that he was inside somewhere, stone seemed to make up every surface, and was laying down on a surprisingly comfortable wooden table. But his vision was swimming and painfully blurry so when he finally was able to bring up his hand he tried to wipe the disorientation away with a groan

"Hey, you're awake." A male voice said startling Jaune and causing him to jump as much as his body was able. Which wasn't much, at all. It mostly consisted of his head lolling over toward the voices direction bringing a man into view. Average looks, with large scars running down his jaw. He was dressed in layers of lightweight armour and two sword handles poked over his right shoulder.

"Whe-" the word seemed to stick to his throat, almost out but straining stay unheard. Thankfully the man seemed to understand. He walked over and knelt so as to be at head level.

"You're at Kaer Morhen. My names Eskel, a witcher." Seeing no spark of recognition in the boy's eyes he continued. "You're one of us now, means we take care of each other. So just lie back and try to get some rest I'll go grab Vesemir, tell him you're awake." Eskel said before disappearing from sight, door hinges squealing signalling the departure.

Rest.

Rest sounded wonderful right now.

Not even ten minutes later the door swung open again and to Jaune's surprise when he lifted his head to look his body obeyed immediately. Two new faces. The men could have been father and son on first glance, both with ashen hair, swords strapped to their backs and similar dress. But they didn't look nearly enough alike they just seemed to have that air between them, both were armoured in chain mail and hardened leather. Eskel was nowhere in sight.

The old man was the first to speak. "Well, I'm glad to see you recovering so nicely. Gave us quite the fright when we heard you in the forest."

"Wh-what happened?" Jaune asked, the words starting to flow much more smoothly.

"Me and Geralt" he said gesturing to the other man "were hunting a basilisk, imagine out surprise when we find a boy who instead of running away from it, charged the beast with a sword bigger than him! You got a nasty bite from the monster so we took you here, gave you the only cure we could."

Looking at the man more intently now Jaune started when he noticed the old man's eyes, glowing amber with narrow slotted pupils. Like a cats. The younger man Geralt shared "One of us..." The boy whispered and when the men shared a look he knew they heard. "The man who was here when I was awake, Eskel said I was one of you. What did you do to me?"

"We put you through the Trial of the Grasses. Traditionally one of the final steps of becoming a Witcher. In your case we had to do it first to neutralize the basilisk venom. There were some complications." Geralt explained, talking for the first time. At Jaune's vacant stare he continued. "Because of the lack of preparations not all the mutagens took perfectly and some reacted to the venom in your blood. Your faster and stronger then humans now but you won't be as strong as most witchers. That's the biggest one, other then that we'll have to wait to see how you develop."

The boy sat up slowly and stared down at his hands, clenching and unclenching them. Previously non existent muscles shifting below his skin. "What's a witcher?"

Vesemir had only a few words on the matter, but it was enough to fill Jaune with hope.

"We're Monster slayers lad."

* * *

 **Wow the outpouring of support has been phenomenal! Thanks everyone for every review, follow and favourite. Please keep it up the more i get the more motivated I am to put extra time away to making sure chapters are on time. See you guys next thursday!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Welp this is about 6000 words shorter then promised but honestly as I was proofreading it started to feel like a huge info dump about a quarter of the way in and by the halfway point was blatant exposition. There was a segment of almost 2000 words where it was just Vesemir droning on and on about the differences of hunters and witchers before moving on to how the trials changed him to an almost painfully detailed level. Then I actually stopped and thought for a minute. Jaune is 9 years old in this scene who the hell talks to 9 year olds like this?! So it was cut, simplified, reintroduced or saved for further chapters.**

 **Anytime Yennefer made an appearance the scene somehow descended into a technical discussion of how sorcery found its way to the world of remnant and how witchers had the same uniform signs. So she will be use much like in Witcher 3, a coordinator and skilled magic user who only takes the field rarely.**

 **Some of you will be disappointed with this but trust me, you shouldn't be. atleast not as much as you do. Because all the stuff that was cut will eventually make it into the story just at a more natural and less infor dumpy way.**

 **I'm not errtheking...**

 **Not saying his stories are bad but he loves to set his epics up by means of blatant exposition**

* * *

The two witchers didn't stay long after that proclamation, only telling him to rest until the soreness left his bones before coming up to get some food and a tour of his new home.

Laying back down on the table Jaune was left to his thoughts. It was so bittersweet, he had done what he had set out to do, he had fought a Grimm. Even though it almost killed him he had managed somehow to impress a few hunters enough to be taken in.

Yet, he had been poisoned. By one of the deadliest creatures known to man. He had no doubt been unconscious for a long time and since his mother wasn't all over him trying to see if he was okay meant his family didn't know he was alive.

His father... Well he had probably already written Jaune off as dead. His mother though? His sisters? They would be devastated, at least he wanted to think they would be. They were always supportive and caring even when he messed up, but at the same time that could just be another mask to hide their true thoughts.

 ** _Disappointment._**

Shaking his head violently he pushed himself to the edge of the table. The soreness was still present but he need to move, to do something to occupy his mind.

Legs dangling over the edge of the table he pushed off until his feet touched the ground testing to see how they would hold. Once he was sure they wouldn't give out from under his he stood straight before looking around and properly observing the room he was in. Two other tables exactly like the ones he had just occupied flanked him, hanging near each one were rows of beakers and bubbling fluids. A fourth table pushed against the wall was covered in several types of plants, boxes and fleshy lumps. Beside that was a full length mirror.

Now having a goal Jaune walked toward it, holding onto the various tables that were nearby to support his weight.

He arrived in short order although with legs a tad shakier than they were to start. He stood shirtless and shoeless with only a pair of green breeches covering him in front of the mirror. The first thing be noticed was the disappearance of his baby fat, he wasn't a pudgy little boy anymore and instead sported a sharp aquiline face that looked startlingly like his father's. His torso also had been stripped clean, he was no where near being muscle bound but was instead lithe and thin, wiry muscles just hinted at below the surface. His hair had also changed, what was once a dirty blonde mop that plagued his family was now flaked with strands of pure white. It was still blonde but a lot lighter and almost seemed to shine in the bright torch light that filled the room.

Speaking of shining, Jaune quickly recoiled falling back and scrambling away from the mirror. His eyes were no longer the brilliant blue pools they once were, no they had been replaced. Edging closer to the mirror he took them in, trying to decide if this was real or not. Glowing amber orbs stared back at him, black pupils split in a way that resembled the old tabby cats that lived near his house.

All of a sudden Eskel's words 'You're one of us now' took a whole new, literal meaning.

Did the rest of them have eyes like this?

Jaune hadn't even noticed with how disoriented he was when he woke up. Looking over his shoulder at the only door he got up and started the task of climbing those steps.

Soreness be damned I need answers.

 **=][=**

By the time he reached the top of the stairs he was ready to collapse. 94 Monty be damned steps, each designed to make his life hell. Resting his hands on his knees Jaune tried to squeeze some life back into them while catching his breath. In front of him stood a heavy oak door reinforced with iron, he could hear the sounds of nature on the other side as well as see sunlight peeking through the bottom. The only thing barring him from leaving a heavy iron latch.

He groaned as he grabbed it putting all his weight down and forward letting the door creak slowly open. As he stepped forward fresh blades of grass tickled in between his toes and his arm raced up to shield his eyes from the sun.

 _Had it always been this bright?_

"Good you made it up. Was starting to wonder what took so long." The same old man said from his position to the right, he was seated on and old stump one hand rhythmically running a whetstone up and down the sword that his other hand held tight. He stared at Jaune for several moments of silence before asking. "So what's your name lad?"

Jaune swallowed, his mouth painfully dry. "Jaune Arc." He answered simply.

"A strong name. My name is Vesemir, I am the eldest witcher of the wolf school. Welcome to Kaer Morhen!" He said with a nod.

"Kaer Morhen? What's that?" Jaune asked a tad clueless.

"Look around boy! Kaer Morhen is the castle you're currently sitting in, your new home. Come let's give you the tour." The old man said before getting up.

Jaune took a moment to look around and he was indeed in a castle, tall stone walls stood strong despite the glaring signs of neglect. On one of the farther towers he could see the vague shape of a man looking over the battlements.

Shaking his head he realized that the old man hadn't waited for him to finish his observations and had set off without him. Rushing to catch up Jaune made it to Vesemir's side just as he started to talk.

They were currently in the inner courtyard, the lab he was just in was an isolated section under the main keep. Taking Jaune inside the keep Vesemir presented the great hall, a room overflowing with work tables, shelves with innumerable objects of unknowable purpose. Several men moved about, some with a purpose others just hanging about. Vesemir took the time to introduce me to each one, a blonde with a clouded eye, Alexi. Another broad but short, Verto. The last a scarred brunette with a nasty bite to his words, Lambert.

"Vesemir? How many witchers are here?" Jaune asked once they had finally finished and left the keep.

Vesemir was silent for a moment as they went through the gate to the next court yard before answering "Here now, there's six, seven including you but the Wolf school is twenty three strong in all. The rest are out fulfilling contracts."

"Wolf school, so there are others?" The boy asked as the sound of metal meeting metal started to ring through the air.

"Aye there are three, one in each kingdom. The Vipers are in Minstral, Cats in Vacuo and Griffins in Atlas. But you will learn this all and in more detail in the coming weeks and months- ah here we are!"

Their walk had taken the towards the main gate house and the tilt yard that filled its courtyard. On it Geralt and Eskel were circling each other, looking for openings or just seeing who would lose patience first Jaune could not tell.

Vesemir placed a hand on the young Arcs shoulder and once he had looked up in askance said "You're body is still to weak to train but there's usually some sandwiches around here, grab one and sit down then watch, try to learn from what you see."

So that's exactly what he did and by the time he was seated on the bench Vesemir had joined the duo now all three prowled around.

And when they moved?

They were poetry in motion.

 **=][=**

 **Two weeks later  
** **Kaer Morhen  
** **Age 8**

Witchers were weird.

Twelve.

Thirteen.

On that Jaune had made up his mind. He had come to that conclusion for a few reasons. Number one being technology.

Fourteen.

Fifteen.

Sixteen.

Seventeen.

Besides the scrolls that each witcher used to keep in contact and track contracts technology seemed to be almost entirely absent from their lives. Everything was lit by torches, food was prepared in wood burning appliances and stored in deep cellars to keep fresh. Blades were were sharpened by hand or pedal powered grinders.

Eighteen.

Nineteen.

Besides Alexi, guns just didn't seem to register and even then he only carries a small pistol. If you wanted ranged capabilities you either picked up a crossbow or put effort into learning the bow.

Speaking of bows...

Twenty.

Jaune pushed himself off the ground one final time before scrambling to his feet.

"Better! But still not good enough for a witcher! Next set you owe me fourth push ups every time you miss the bullseye and when you hit... Then you owe me twenty."

Jaune could only glare at the smug smile that covered Lambert's face. He was a damned task master with no pity, so was Vesemir of course but at least the old man separated exercises with theoretical lessons. The youngest witcher stumbled to a bench and started to guzzle water from one of the many pitchers scatter about the tilt yard.

Having nothing better to do for the next ninety seconds and hoping to buy a few more minutes of precious rest Jaune opened his mouth. "Lambert, can I ask you something?"

"Yeah, go for it kid." The man said from where he was leaning.

"Why is the castle so backwards? No electricity, no running water, horses for transport?" Jaune asked between gulps of water.

What he didn't expect was for Lambert to throw his head back and laugh "It's because we're stubborn old bastards set in our ways!"

Jaune was about to ask what he meant but someone interrupted him, Geralt. "Kaer Morhen is situated outside of all known zones of control from the kingdoms, no supplies are shipped in, no safe way to run utilities. Simply put everything here is hunted, built or brought by individual witchers. We are on our own."

Jaune turned to face Geralt, he was in a simple white shirt and black pants, something wrapped in several layers of cloth sat in his hands. "But aren't hunter schools funded by the kingdoms?"

Geralt nodded his head, "Yes but witchers are not hunters."

"We're not? But Vesemir said we were monster hunters?"

Lamberts biting laugh rang out once again. "Oh we are! But unlike hunters we aren't naive enough to think Grimm are the only monsters out there."

"What does that mean?"

Geralt answered, "There's a reason witchers carry two swords. Silver for Grimm and steel for humans."

"H-humans." Jaune said eyes wide.

"Trust me kid, humans and faunus can be just as evil as any Grimm you will ever face." Lambert said.

"Mhm, that's why this is yours." Geralt said holding the bundle of cloth out to the boy. Almost reverently the boy slowly unwrapped the sheet and revealed a long sword, one painfully familiar yet oh so different.

"Crocea Mors..." What was once a thick bladed arming sword had some how been transformed into an entirely different beast, half again as long as it once was and much thinner, the grip had been replaced. The old handle was short and made of simple wood but had become bone wrapped in leather strings, long enough to fit both hands. "What happened to it?"

"We found it with you, broken. Yennefer, the sorceress here, managed to repair it and make it a proper witcher blade."

Jaune looked up at the name, brows furrowed. Lambert clued in "Consider yourself lucky that you haven't met her. She's a stuck up bitch with Geralt wrapped around her finger."

At the death glare he got the grown man could only giggle like a child. "Why don't you go introduce the kid, make him fight Ciri. We were almost done here any way."

"Fine." Geralt said lip curled slightly. "Come on Jaune."

Jaune nodded grabbing Corcea Mors, only to look at the sword with a tilted head. He knew that the trials and the past week and a half of training had made him stronger but not as much as this! The blade almost seemed to float in his hands.

Breaking his reverie he hurried to catch up with Geralt, he had more people to meet.

 **=][=**

 **Four years later  
** **Kaer Morhen  
** **Age 12**

"This sucks." Jaune muttered. He was laying atop one of the towers of Kear Morhen's keep.

Beside him the girl snorted, Ciri. He had met her just two weeks after being here and the two took to each other and became thick as thieves, each for their own reasons. To Jaune she was like an older sister, almost painfully like his old family. For Ciri she was just glad to have someone near her own age, even if he was a year younger and a stupid boy.

When one would ditch lessons the other was always in their place ready with a cover story and would fill the other in before any could confront them. More then once they had managed to get the forty year old bear faunus Alexi to step on a pressure pad that dropped a bucket of drowner tongues on him.

They were in very basics terms partners. Even when they heard the news that's Ciri would be leaving with Yennefer to control the magic swirling witching the girl.

"It's only for a few years."

"That's a long time, what am I going to do here all alone?"

"Pfft I'm sure you'll manage. Besides it's not like I can be a witcher."

The boy didn't answer and just looked up to the sky, the moon shattered and scattered drifted lazily amongst the see of stars. Ciri shifted her gaze star side as well. Stars stretched on as the eye could possibly see, brilliant shades of blue and purple streaked through the sky.

"It's really is beautiful isn't it?" Ciri asked but again Jaune didn't answer at least not right away.

"Have you ever wondered what's out there? If there's a place like Remnant out there but free from Grimm."

Now it was Ciri's turn to become silent. Eventually offering "I'm sure there is, somewhere."

"I'd like to see that place one day."

"You will Jaune. We both will. I promise."

They lay in silence until sleep came to claim them both and when morning finally dawned and Jaune awoke, Ciri had already gone.

It would be much longer than two years before the would be reunited.

 **=][=**

 **Two years later  
** **The Wilds, Outskirts of Vale  
** **Age 14**

Jaune threw himself back at just the last moment. Infront of him a clawed hand nearly as large as himself whipped through the air. He cursed his clumsiness and impatience. He was currently undertaking his final trial, the trial of the medallion, his last step before finally being allowed to learn the multiple signs that every witcher had at their disposal. All he had to do was take an medallion shell up the mountain and reach the circle of elements where he would light the torches and perform a charging ritual.

But as he entered the final stretch and entered old spear tips cave he didn't wait for his eyes to adjust or even just drank a cat potion, which he did have! He just rushed on through and managed to clip a rock with his foot, which the bounced off the wall, then proceeded to skip and jump until in impacted on a very sleepy giants head.

That sleepy giant very quickly became an enraged and hungry giant.

As the hand swung by Jaune let of a roar and brought his sword down on Old Speartip's wrist. But even with Witcher's silver the ancient creatures hide was to thick to do anything but leave a thin red line on the skin's surface.

"This is useless!" Jaune said, jaw set and teeth grinding together as he looked for a way out of the fight.

The exit quickly became apparent as the backswing from Old Speartip quite literally backhanded Jaune into the ledges one had to climb to get to the circle. Something definitely cracked audibly as he impacted the unyielding stone back first. Jaune scrambled to his feet with a pained grunt, sword arm hanging limp and clutching his right side with his free arm. Old Speartip was picking up a broken stalactite no doubt to throw at him.

Instead of waiting for the sharp spiky death Jaune looked up to the blue sky and threw his sword up to the top of the ledge before quickly scrambling up after it. He rolled away immediately after clearing the cave only to here stone meet stone in an ear splitting crash.

Breathing deeply Jaune could only admire the blue sky. It wasn't surprising really that after escaping certain death the simplest things in the world seemed to gain a beauty that eluded those who hadn't faced their own morality in the past hour.

Eventually his heart rate had settle enough that he could force a swallow potion down his throat.

Swallow was an indispensable potion in a witchers tool box, able to heal the drinker enough to keep fighting efficiently. But it had the consistency of mud, coloured like bright arterial blood and tasted like rotting fish. No one drank them unless they absolutely had to, hence all the scars witchers seemed destined to collect.

After he felt his bones stop shifting and the majority of pain leave his torso Jaune sat up and got his feet under him. The circle and the altar that sat in the middle of it was only a few dozen meters away and the distance closed quickly with Jaune's strides.

He pulled out his flint and steel and quickly set about lighting the four braziers in the circle. Afterwards he lifted his inert medallion off his neck and placed it on the altar before settling down to meditate. Neither Vesemir or Eskel would tell him exactly what he would do when he got to this part but did let Jaune know that the answer would come to him.

So he waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Still waiting...

...

...

 _I bet this is just some joke that they tell initiates and bet on when they gi-_

Then it happened.

The fires from the braziers leapt up and took on a blue tint before arcing toward the former Arc heir. Flames licked his clothes, his hair, his skin yet he felt no heat. Bringing his hands up in front of him the flames seemed to pool in his hands. Jaune connected the dots and brought the pool of fire down on the medallion.

He didn't even have time to regret the move as his aura flared in a visible wave before chains of blue fire surrounded it and pulled it hard back inwards.

The pain was horrible, no where near as bad as the ordeal that brought him to Kaer Morhen but still enough to drive Jaune to his knees, knuckles white as they pressed against the ground. On the altar the medallions eyes came to life, burning with an inner fire. His aura settled upon his flesh becoming a second layer of skin.

Just as quickly as it started, it stopped and Jaune flung himself backwards out of the circle. Breathing hard he looked at himself, watched as the glow that surrounded him slowly dissipated. He reached out his hand, almost by instinct, and snapped his fingers.

The braziers went out.

"This is so cool!"

 **=][=**

 **15 months later  
** **Kaer Morhen Lake  
** **Age 16**

"I think this is cheating."

 **BANG**

"No. I know this is cheating."

 **BANG**

"What're you talking about kid?" Lambert asked while attempting to light the fuse of a third bomb.

Jaune scratched the peach fuzz that had annoyingly taken residence on his face. "When you asked if I wanted to go fishing with you I kind of expected to, oh I don't know, actually fish."

Lambert threw the now lit bomb over his left shoulder before the waters surface bulged up with a loud-

 **BANG**

"Honestly kid, this is me we're talking about. Why would you expect anything else." Lambert shrugged before grabbing a net to scoop up the rising fish. At the lack of a response Lambert sighed "You going to sit there and mope or you going to help me load these things?"

Wordlessly Jaune got up and grabbed a second net before covering the other side of the boat. They worked in silence for a bit before Lambert once again broke the silence. "Jaune."

Jaune's head snapped up.

 _That was weird... When dealing with Lambert it was always kid, sometimes tiny or short stuff. But he never called me by my name._

Jaune shifted the weight on his legs rocking the boat slightly and rearranging his hold of the net "Uh, yeah lambert? What's up?"

"I know you're worried about Ciri. We all can see it because most of us are too."

"Most of?" Jaune asked brow arching upwards.

"Well you know how many of the guys come here just for the solstices, it's only a half dozen or so of us who actually home here."

Jaune just nodded.

"But Jaune, you're letting it eat at you, it's ruining you. Your swings are weaker, your reactions are slower, your signs take longer. You have to focus on your training otherwise Vesemir's never going to let you go on contracts."

Jaune's lip curled and he twirled around. "Training?! Contracts?! Who gives a shit? Ciri's out who knows where! How can I focus when I know Ciri could be out there, hurt, captured or- or-" he couldn't bring himself to say the word but the poisonous part of his mind had no issue whispering the word.

 _ **Dead.**_

 _ **She's dead Jaune.**_

 _ **She died because you didn't ask her to stay that night.**_

 _ **Because weren't strong enough.**_

 _ **Such a...**_

 _ **Disappointment.**_

"Dead?" Jaune's face screwed together and he flinched at Lambert's voice. "She could be dead Jaune and do you think she'd want you to waste your life worrying over her?" When Jaune opened his mouth to speak Lambert cut him off "But what if she's not? What if we get a clue where she is and we go rescue her, but since you've worn yourself ragged you get hurt or you die or hell you get Ciri killed?"

 _I'd never let myself live with it, and there's no way I'd ever put Ciri through this..._

 _Fucking Lambert._

"You're a bastard." Jaune said looking at the witcher who somehow managed to become a big brother for him.

Lambert's lips twitched and he spread his arms "Yeah and? What're you going to do about it?"

Jaune brought his hand to his chin mulling it over "Not much."

Smug smile in place Lambert crossed his arms "Exac-"

"Except this." Jaune said with a smile as he lunged toward Lambert, wrapped his arms around him and threw both of them overboard into the cold lake.

As they came up to the surface Jaune laughed "Hey Lambert!"

"Kid. I swear I'm going to kill you!"

Already swimming away and back to the shore Jaune called back "Thanks I needed this!"

 **=][=**

 **One year later  
** **Kaer Morhen  
** **Age 17**

He could feel someone shaking his shoulder.

"Wake up Jaune. We found Ciri."

Yellow eyes flashed open.

* * *

 **BLAARGH**

 **MAN FLU**

 **Yeah but i know you missed the of some odd thousand words but subsequent chapters should all be this length minimum JUST TO MAKE MY LIFE HARDER :D**


	4. Chapter 4

Well reboot incoming.

Don't know when but looking back the premise of this is good and solid but by God did I rush it. Expect actual developmental arcs and planned out storylines. Everything in the witcher will be present just not always how you expect it and never a 1:1 transition.


End file.
